and all the worlds a stage, she thinks
by Fancy Piece of Work
Summary: "This time, she thinks, I'll die when I want to and not a second before." It's the Caroline show and it's all in her mind. Kind of AU. C/K, of course.


This is what it is;

* * *

><p>It's the Caroline Show, and it's really not as eternally complicated as doppelganger love triangles seem to be, but she likes to think it's still something pretty impressive. It's dazzling and marvellous and <em>wonderful<em>. And in it she's perfect. The main attraction, the starlet. She's Marilyn Monroe and Greta Garble and she's _classy_ and this show will never, ever be cancelled because it is just that riveting.

It's all in her mind.

But she's not complaining because there are no critics and no ratings and it's all very, very _freeing _to be leading lady as well as Director and Producer and Editor and her cutting room floor is filled with a thousand discarded takes but that's fine too because the final product will be _amazing_.

She just knows it.

She starts out slow, and it's like those old time movies where they go on forever and ever, because no detail is unmissed by the camera and each shift of body and face is closely recorded and emotional upheaval takes at least half an hour to get through.

Her life is Gone With The Wind.

Her leading man is too many men but they all offer something and it's when she's fourteen she finally realises that her leading men aren't really that at all, but simply guest stars to make the main character a better person or some such nonsense.

She sometimes wonders if she could pull off a silent movie. She'll raise her eyebrows a lot and pull a thousand faces and who cares if the editing suddenly changes halfway through if she could just stop being expected to _talk_ so much.

She wants to glue her mouth shut and have people wonder over and over what she's thinking.

Only, she's a perfectionist and the movie's already started and she simply can't have it change right in the middle so she continues on as she has, by talking, talking, talking and she never _really_ knows what she's saying but that's not the point anymore, is it?

* * *

><p>This is the boring part;<p>

* * *

><p>Between the ages of fourteen and sixteen Caroline falls in love.<p>

A lot.

Over and over and over, she falls in love, with too many people and not enough people and it's _scary_ and _thrilling_ and she can't stop smiling because each time it happens she feels braver and braver, only each time it _ends_ she falls a little more and more into her own mind, back to the cutting room floor where she struggles to edit and edit and find a moral to this chapter before realising that love's really not what it is at _all_.

(and she's fucked up the movie for her audience because predictable movies are boring and everybody knows the blonde cheerleader goes left instead of right and thinks the football player loves her until she walks in on him with a blonde girl who's not her)

She changes the words in her script, from falling in love to just fucking and promises herself to never, ever fall in love again. Not until the perfect man comes.

The tall-dark-handsome leading man who's bad and lonely like she seems to be and they'll be perfect and defy all odds.

She fucks and gets fucked in between the ages of fourteen and sixteen and those times are the ones that make the audience either laugh or cry because sometimes drunk Caroline is very, very funny (she never trips when she's drunk because she's been wearing heels since she was twelve but sometimes some of the things to come out of her mouth prove she's a real blonde) and sometimes she just _pretends_ to be drunk because it's an excuse and it's all really quite sad when eventually she ends up all alone.

One night stands are best done sober, because knowing they'll leave while sober is totally different from being slightly aware of that fact while drunk.

She imagines the audience must cry a lot in her movie.

* * *

><p>This is when it changes;<p>

* * *

><p>She <em>dies<em> and it's _scary_. Scarier than falling in and out of love or being on top of the pyramid during pep rallies and being home alone while her mum is working and her dad's with a new family.

She wonders how and when her movie got turned into a thriller and it's the next day that she realises it's not a thriller at _all_ but rather a horror and she never really noticed the difference between those two genres before because Caroline is a Disney girl and a Casablanca girl and none of those really include vampires but yeah, wow.

_Surprise_.

The first ring she ever gets from another person is ugly and too-big and she clenches her fingers together tightly, half to hide her shaking and half because she's scared what will happen if it falls off.

_This time_, she thinks,_ I'll die when I want to and not a second before._

After a while she thinks her story needs to become a trilogy or something because she's got forever now, doesn't she? And not even old-time movies could last forever.

Matt.

Tyler.

Nothing changes while everything does.

_She_ doesn't change while everything does.

And Caroline Forbes, the girl in the movie, revisits the idea of gluing her mouth shut over and over, only this time it's not so she doesn't have to talk. This time it's so she'll never have to kill, never have to _bite_ and _suck_ and _drink_ and _ohgoditssogood_ but it's just _bunnies_ Stefan – bunnies are only killed by lions and wolves and oh yeah, _serial killers._

And she's not a serial killer. That is not in the script, won't ever, _ever_ be in the script.

A few little fuck-ups will _not_ make her movie Dexter 2.0.

Blood bags aren't as good, as warm or as possibly willing but they're much, much better than bunnies.

* * *

><p>This is what happens;<p>

* * *

><p>The first time she slides her hand into his is when she's dying – again, and the hand encompassing her own is calloused and strong and she's holding on like he's her very own centre of gravity and without him she might just float away.<p>

Caroline falls in love.

And it's like a different kind of floating away.

Klaus is Klaus and Caroline is Caroline and that's all they're ever _supposed_ to be. Two side-notes in the ElenaStefanDamon show, only Klaus is also _Nik_ and Caroline's always been _Care_.

(only, Caroline Forbes has her own show and that means that though most of the people to call him Nik are long dead and currently being dragged around in coffins and Caroline has hated her nickname since her dad first came up with it, they're still two golden, shining coins with too many sides and her film is far from used up and really this is just another chapter, another scene)

He's not tall-dark-handsome, rather he's tall-light-beautiful and she doesn't really care if he's evil, evil, evil because he's perfect. They could defy all odds, like Christian and Satine. Like Beauty and the Beast.

In a thousand years, people will have written stories about them, blonde and joyous Caroline and blonde and wicked Nik; only hers will have been the first. The Caroline Show is becoming the Caroline and Niklaus Show and she doesn't really mind because their names sound wonderful together and the more time she spends with him the less time she's in her dark cutting room floor and crying while all the while feeling her audience crying with her.

(They only laugh now. And sigh. And wish they were her because it's _wonderful)._

He tells her about the world and she envisions packing montages and trips to fashion capitals and third world countries and she can _see_ it. Her sequel could very, very easily take place in Rome, Paris or Tokyo.

When they fuck it's not _just fucking_, but also all these other sappy, sickening phrases she's never thought of before. They do it all, from fucking to lovemaking and she realises one thousand years plus is a _lot_ of time to practise.

Her leading man is hesitant and then again not, in both the same sentence. "Take a chance, Caroline. Get to know me." And she finds she often needs to convince him to take chances too.

And they do.

The following scenes of the Caroline Show, between the ages of seventeen-forever and seventeen-forever, are all about taking chances.

He teaches her to paint.

She teaches him to trust.

And they work.

Their whole relationship _is_ trust and faith (and frequently blocking thoughts of dead bodies and serial killers from her mind and it's a skill she learnt quickly) and she _probably_ only does it because she's a _tad_ delusional, but she always has been and that'll never change.

She won't change her movie half way through.

Especially when they _work._

It's right at the end of one story and the beginning of another when he tells her for the last time;_ love is a vampire's greatest weakness._

_Good thing you're a hybrid_, she says. _And good thing I've got you to protect me._

And that's where it ends.

And starts.


End file.
